


Barton Watson: Recovery

by cantorahagedoorn



Series: Barton-Watson [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Clint Barton, Bruce Is a Good Bro, Fluff, Gen, How Do I Tag, Post-Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-06-06 09:36:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15191945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cantorahagedoorn/pseuds/cantorahagedoorn
Summary: "I heard what happened. I also know what isn't happening. You're coming to crash at my place."Unable to get out from under his cousin's request/offer/demand John makes the trip to America.***Collections of short chapters with John and Clint as cousins (term used loosely), with a somewhat chronological order***





	1. The Arrival

John readjusted his duffel a bit so the strap wouldn’t dig in his shoulder as much. Then he started his track through the fairly populated airport. He had spent the last couple of days arguing with his cousin about this visit. He really hadn’t wanted to go, but Clint wasn’t taking no for an answer. His cousin had even gotten Virginia ‘Pepper’ Potts involved, who had confirmed that everyone in the tower knew that he was coming and didn’t mind.

The change of scenery probably wasn’t as bad as John was making it out to be. When he had told people back home he would be visiting a distance cousin in the states for a while most had reacted relieved. It was also likely that they were just happy he had finally left the flat. He had become really bad towards the end, John though, feeling a bit guilty.

So with goodbyes from his friends in London (and John was secretly very relieved that Mycroft had seemed preoccupied with something else. He really didn’t want to explain his cousin the Avenger to the British government), John had set off to New York.

The flight itself hadn’t been very interesting. John had tried and failed to sleep through his eight-hour flight. And while John had succeeded in talking his cousin out of a first-class seat, the archer had insisted on picking him up from the airport.

So came it that he was making his way towards the exit of the airport while looking for a familiar sight.

“JOHN!”

The blond doctor turned his head in the direction he thought his name had sounded from. At first, he saw nothing familiar, but then he noticed a shock of red hair among the masses. Careful, as to not run into too many people, he made his way over to the familiar sight.

When he arrived at the pair he didn’t get the change to say as much as a ‘Hello’ before Clint caught him in a big hug.

“It is good to see you, John,” Clint spoke into his shoulder.

“It is good to see you too,” John replied, getting a soft squeeze from his cousin before letting go.

“And lovely to see you as well Miss Romanov.” John inclined his head toward the redhead.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Natasha told him, while they started to make their way outside, “It will be nice to have another sensible person in the Tower.”

“We’re not that bad.” Clint protested.

“You mean to tell me Tony isn’t currently sleeping off a three-day bender that ended with the two of you shooting paint arrows at unsuspecting people?” Natasha asked the archer.

Clint grumbled something unintelligible under his breath but didn’t correct the red-haired assassin.

 

When the trio arrived at the car Natasha took a step forward to open the back door and motioned for the cousins to get in.

“Take a seat, boys. I’m driving.”

“Why can’t I sit shotgun?” Clint whined while John got in.

Widow gave the archer a _look_ , “Because you have a cousin to entertain _and_ I don’t want you anywhere near the radio.”

Clint pouted but wisely didn’t argue as he took a seat next to John.

“Why were you shooting, what did she call it, paint arrows?” John asked, slightly curious.

“Like Nat said, Tony went on a bender,” Clint explained, “that means he disappears in his lab/workshop for an extended period of time and because he doesn’t sleep his attention deteriorates over time. And then you get things like paint arrows.”

“Oh, I understand how Stark ended up where he is. And does he really not sleep? That isn’t healthy. But I didn’t ask about Stark,” John turned to his cousin, “I asked how _you_ ended up shooting paint arrows. Because you haven’t just been awake for three days, you’re here instead of sleeping like Stark. _And_ for some reason, I don’t think Stark would have made paint arrows himself, no matter how much his attention span deteriorates.”

Clint looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie-jar and John could see Natasha smirking from the corner of his eye.

“What?!” Clint sputtered, “I was told to get him out of his lab! And I succeeded! I don’t understand why everyone is whining so much.”

“Maybe we wanted you to do so without repainting a couple of floors. Although the blue in Thor’s hair was quite fetching.”

John spoke up before the archer could respond, “So that is what you do now? I thought you had upgraded to superhero.”

Clint took the bait and spend the rest of the drive telling stories about the battles the Avengers had fought. Defending his position that he really was a superhero in a serious superhero team.

 

They arrived at the tower with minimal delay, or as much ‘minimal delay’ as one could expect in New York, and Natasha parked the car in the underground parking. When they made their way to the elevator a voice spoke up.

“Welcome back, Agent Romanov, Agent Barton,” John jumped in response to the sudden sound, “Excuses doctor Watson, I didn’t mean to startle you. Let me introduce myself. I am JARVIS, I am an AI and am integrated into the entire tower. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you two,” John responded, a bit bewildered, “I just didn’t expect you, JARVIS, it is fine. And you can call me John.”

“Much obliged doctor Watson.” JARVIS replied, before addressing the agents again, “Captain Rogers inquired who will be joining for dinner.”

“Don’t bother John, even Steve lost that battle with JARVIS.” Clint told John before asking, “You think you’re up for team dinner? Tony’s probably back up by then, so you could meet the gang.”

John shook his head, “Stark might be awake, but I don’t think I will be. I just had an eight-hour flight, remember?”

“How about we give you a tour of the tower,” Natasha cut in, “You need to see more than just Clint’s guest room. And after that, we’ll eat a late lunch together on Clint’s floor. Then you can hit the hay if you need to and Clint and I go to the team dinner.”

“That sounds good,” John replied before they stepped into the elevator.


	2. Elevator ride

John looked with slight disbelieve to the frankly insane number of floor buttons as the elevator smoothly went up.

“The Avengers are on the topmost floors,” Natasha told the doctor, “If you can’t remember who was on what floor you can always ask JARVIS.”

John nodded in understanding, still slightly flabbergasted by the sheer size of the building.

The elevator pulled to a stop on a floor that wasn’t Clint’s yet. The doors opened and a woman with strawberry blond hair stepped in.

“Hello, Pepper.” Natasha greeted the newcomer whit a sincere smile.

The woman, Miss Potts, smiled at the two assassins, then she turned to John, “You must be Doctor Watson. It is nice to meet you.”

John took miss Potts’s extended hand, “Nice to meet you too, Miss Potts. But you didn’t need to come and great me personally. I’m sure you have a lot of other things to do,” John replied, “And you can just call me John.”

“Only if you call me Pepper. And I needed to go up anyway.” Miss Potts, Pepper, began, “I need to talk with Bruce about one of his designs, from what I heard it is absolutely brilliant, but the R&D department is having trouble with his shorthand.”

“Why don’t they just ask Bruce directly?” Clint asked Pepper, feigning ignorance.

“Because Bruce scares the crap out of the R&D department,” Pepper remarks, “And not because he turns big and green, as you well know.”

“I love this story,” Clint confided to John, “It always reminds me that ‘normal’ people are so... easily impressed.”

“Why don’t you tell the story then.” Natasha shot at the archer.

“But Pepper tells it better,” Clint whined back.

Pepper laughed at the blond man his antics, “Oh I don’t see why not,” she started, “You see, the first time most of the R&D staff met Bruce, he and Tony had just spent something close to 32 hours in the workshop.”

“So those two arrived together, both covered in grease and looking like crazy scientists. Tony immediately starts to talk about whatever the meeting was about, Meanwhile, Bruce, who is visibly sleepy because, while Tony gets some short of caffeine high after a certain point, Bruce only drinks tea.”

“Anyway, Tony starts his meeting and Bruce is just looking around till he spots this big whiteboard with calculations. The calculations were regarding a project from one of the higher placed R&D personnel and half the division had gotten involved and everyone was convinced that they _almost_ had it. Bruce looks at it, blinks twice, and you should see the footage because it is quite the sight, and says ‘That is wrong.’”

“Tony, not looking up from what he is doing, asks him what is wrong and Bruce just points at the whiteboard and says ‘That.’”

“Now he has the attention of the entire room, and it was probably good that he was so sleepy otherwise he would have noticed the number of people watching him and become shy, and one of the R&D’ers says ‘It is not wrong, just not finished yet’.”

“But Bruce was already shaking his head, then he walks up to the board, steals a marker, starts to explain all the problems and completely ribs the complete thing apart. When Tony makes a comment somewhere, Bruce throws his pen at him and explains where _he_ is wrong.”

“So, the R&D is now looking at this man, who half asleep uprooted something they had been working on for weeks and _corrected Tony Stark_.”

Pepper pauses for a moment, “And then he made it worse.”

“Or better,” Clint pipes up, “Depending on your perspective.”

Pepper smiles and continued, “Bruce then wrote a solution to the problem on the whiteboard. Half asleep, with no prior knowledge, he wrote a solution that looked nothing like what R&D had produced. And it was correct.”

“They are scared of his intelligence?” John asked confused, "I thought they would be able to appreciate it better.”

“You forget that this is the Stark Industry R&D department, what means that they are the some of the brightest minds in the country,” Natasha explained, “And then Bruce walks in and leaves them all in the dust. That can be quite terrifying.”

John hummed somewhat in understanding, thinking about the Holmes brothers. Although he was pretty sure they scared the shit out of people because they suddenly seemed to know all your secrets.

Then the elevator gave a cheerful _pling_. They had arrived on Clint his floor.

“It has been nice to meet you, John,” Pepper prompts, “Will I be seeing you at dinner?”

“I’m afraid not,” John replies, “I have had a long flight.”

“We’re going to do a tour and then a late lunch,” Natasha explains to Pepper, “After that John can get used to his room.”

“Well, I’ll see you around,” Pepper says, as the elevator doors close again.

“Have a nice day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the new chapter!  
> I wanted to give an advanced warning, next week I will probably post as normal but the two weeks after that are probably a hiatus.  
> I'm going on summer vacation and probably won't have internet.  
> That being said, everyone enjoys your summer! (I don't know what people on the southern hemisphere do around this time but enjoy that too.)


	3. Midnight tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Midnight tea.  
> Because none of the Avengers really have a normal sleeping schedule.  
> So finding some else in the kitchen isn't that strange.

3:13

The numbers on the clock were almost looking like they were mocking Bruce. Remaining him that this was a moment normal people slept, instead of lying in bed awake staring at the minutes pass by on a clock.

The scientist rolled over one more time and then decided to give up. Sleep was apparently not going to happen. Maybe a cup of tea would help.

With thoughts of tea, Bruce started his track to the communal kitchen. That is where most of the tea was stored, simply because it was the kitchen he used the most.

When he arrived in the kitchen he wasn’t so much surprised to see someone already there, it was quite common to find someone else who couldn’t (or wouldn’t) sleep. No, Bruce was surprised to see this particular person.

Clint’s cousin, John Watson, was looking for something in the kitchen cabinets. He didn’t seem to have a lot of luck.

When the man had arrived two days ago Clint and Natasha had introduced the blond to everyone in the tower. Since then Bruce had seen the man around, but he was mostly avoiding the others and seemed to spend most of his time in Clint’s apartment/rooms.

Bruce stepped further into the kitchen, making sure his footsteps were heard by the other man.

The blond doctor looked over, mildly surprised, “Oh, sorry. I didn’t see you there. I didn’t wake you did I?”

Bruce shook his head, “I sleep three floors down,” He told the brit, “Even Thor can’t manage that. What are you looking for?”

“Tea,” The blond answered while turning back to the cupboards, “I know there is some somewhere, Clint managed to produce some, but I can’t seem to find it.”

“It is in the lower cabinet next to the fridge,” Bruce told him.

John looked at the mentioned cabinet and then made his way over to open it, “Odd place to keep tea.”

Bruce shrugged, “I put it there because it otherwise gets tainted by coffee. Tony keeps that stuff almost everywhere.”

John pulled a face at the mention of mixing taste of coffee and tea, “Might need to do that on Clint’s floor as well,” then he held up the box of tea, “Do you want some?”

The scientist nodded in affirmation, “Whatever your having is fine,” then he added with a smile, “I think I can trust your tea making skills.”

The blond lifted an eyebrow, “Because I’m British?”

“Because you know you shouldn’t store coffee and tea next to each other,” Bruce replied, “And I survive Tony’s tea on a semi-regular basis.”

“Is he that bad?” John asked while putting the water on.

“Probably a bit worse than your imagining,” the scientist confessed, “But I don’t think anyone else in the tower drinks tea or knows how to make it.”

The blond pulled out a pair of mugs, “Clint is not that bad, as long as you remember to fish the tea bag from your cup. But Natasha makes a decent cup.”

“Can’t remember if I ever had any she made,” Bruce took the cup of tea John handed him, “Thank you. But that she knows how doesn’t really surprise me,”

The conversation stagnated as both men enjoyed their tea. Neither really felt like breaking the confrontable silence with idle chitchat. And when Bruce went to make some more tea the blond gladly accepted his second cup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter. I hope you enjoyed it.  
> Due to the summer, I'm going on a two-week hiatus.  
> I see you all around the 11th of August.


	4. Team dinner

The smell of curry was wafting through the common floor. It was almost time for dinner and Bruce was cooking, which meant all the available Avengers showed for a good homemade meal. The last of the group wandered in just as the table was being set.

“Still no cousin?” Tony remarked at Clint, “If it wasn’t for the short introduction I would be inclined to say the guy doesn’t exist at all. He has been here for, what now, a week? Has he ever been off your floor?”

“Oh shove off, Stark,” Clint retorts while helping himself to a serving, “Your just being noisy.”

“But that can’t be good,” Steve interjected with concern clear in his voice, “Being cooped up on your floor all day.”

“Tony is over exaggerating,” the archer counters, “Just because you don’t see him doesn’t mean that he isn’t leaving my floor. We made use of the shooting range yesterday, for example.”

“The shooting range?” Tony remarked, “Were you showing off Barton?”

“More like training,” Clint counters, “John is a pretty good shot, especially with a handgun. And I was showing him how to shoot a bow.”

“Your kin must be an excellent shot for you to give such praise!” Thor notes, “How did your lessons fair."

“They went really well!” Clint told, excited, “the main issue right now is his stance. But I already have a plan for that.”

“You do know that sounds kind of ominous, right?” Bruce asked looking at the assassin over his glass.

“I don’t like what you are implying,” the blond archer intones with narrowed eyes, “I would never do anything to bother John. I _like_ John.”

“I’m going on a limb here and assume you like me too,” Steve remarks, “Still, I find myself painted in dubious colours and otherwise on the wrong end of your ‘pranks’ on a regular basis.”

Clint started to sputter an objection, but Natasha beat him to it, “He got you there, Barton,” she acknowledges, “You generally only avoid pranking people who scare you. Because you don’t want them to retaliate.”

“Then why am I always safe from his pranks?” Pepper asks the group at large, “Or at least from the direct attacks.”

“Pepper,” Natasha starts, “He uses your door and _knocks_. You scare the crap out of him.”

“Pepper doesn’t scare the crap out of me.” Clint defended, then he pouted, “It is just that she could take over the world and I want to be on her good side when that happens.”

“Then why am I a prank target?” Tony asked in an offended voice, “I could take over the world.”

Bruce gave the engineer an unimpressed look, “You probably could,” he started, “But you would hate the responsibility and give it to Pepper. So that is a bit of a moot point.”

“That is probably true,” Tony acknowledged as the rest of the group laughed, “All the more reason to fear Pepper, I guess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who is back with another chapter!!  
> I had a lovely vacation, managed to scribble down some ideas but absolutely no real progress (but I still have a buffer for weeks)  
> I hope everybody else also had/has a good summer and that you guys enjoyed the new chapter.  
> I will just pick up my old posting routine again, so till next week.


	5. Clint's hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint's hunt for a wayward cousin

Clint was on a hunt. Well… Calling it a hunt might be a slight exaggeration. The archer was looking for his wayward cousin. He had searched the entire (not really) tower up and down and still couldn’t find the man.

The blond had last seen John when they had just gotten back from a walk through a nearby park. Nat had wanted to spar and John had said he could find something to amuse himself while the two of them went at it.

After about an hour Clint had been done being used to sweep the floor of the gym with (read sparring with the Black Widow) he had taken a shower. And then he couldn't find his cousin. The guy wasn’t outside, they had just gotten back and JARVIS had assured him that John hadn't left the tower.

He was looking for about an hour now and it was getting slightly ridiculous, he was a spy for Pete’s sake. And it wasn’t like John could turn invisible. Yes, the guy was unintrusive and had the uncanny ability to disappear into the background, but then Clint could still find him.

The archer rubbed his temples once more, trying to think of places John could be. Natasha’s floor was an option, but his cousin wouldn't go there when Natasha wasn’t there. Speaking about Natasha, Clint was very glad that she wasn’t here to see him fail. She would probably laugh at him, a lot.

Back to the matter at hand, missing cousin. Where could John be? Clint let his head drop to the floor of the air vent he was currently occupying. He felt really stupid, it was like he was looking for a lost dog or something. Only John wasn’t stupid enough to get hit by a car and could most definitely find his way back. The archer had no real reason to worry unless John didn’t show up for dinner. The guy was doing better and didn’t need a babysitter, goddamit.

“Clint? Was that you? Everything alright?”

Dam, that was Bruce. Because Clint was currently in a vent above Bruce’s room and the man had heard Clint bang his head against the shaft.

“I’m fine Bruce!” Clint yelled back, “I’m just feeling like an idiot.”

“Why?” Bruce’s concerned voice echoed through the vents, “You’re not stuck are you?”

“No!” the archer retorted, “Of course I’m not stuck. I never get stuck in air vents!”

“What about when…”

“That!” Clint interrupted Bruce, “Was completely and utterly Tony’s fault and you know it.”

“Alright, alright,” the scientist allows while Clint starts to make his way toward the actual vent opening to the room, “Why do you think you’re an idiot then?”

The blond grumbled something unintelligible to himself, then he reached to opening.

“Does it by any chance have anything to do with you being unable to find John?” The doctor asked.

“Yes,” Clint said with a frown, about half out of the vent, “But how do you…”

That when his eyes landed on his cousin. Who was sitting in one of Bruce’s chairs with a book, a cup of (presumably) tea and a small smile on his lips. The guy was laughing at him, _Traitor._

“What? When?” the spy started to sputter, then he composed himself, “You know what? Never mind, just pretend I was never here.” Then Clint started to move back into the vent.

Now his cousin was really laughing, “Clint, don’t be ridiculous and get back here.”

Stopping his retreat but also not actually moving further into the room Clint glared at his cousin, “How long have you _been_ here?”

John turned his head to look at the clock on the wall, “About two hours, I think. I pretty much went here when you and Nat went sparring.”

“How long have you been looking for John?” Bruce asked the archer.

“Not that long,” Clint defended.

Both doctors looked at the ceiling as John said “JARVIS?”

“Agent Barton has started his search approximately 57 minutes ago.”

“You have been looking for me for about an hour?” John asked, perplexed, “Why not just ask JARVIS?”

“Because that,” the spy started, while he finally really left the vent, “Would have been cheating.”

When his cousin just gave him an unbelieving look Clint continued to defend himself, “It is not like I could know you would be on Bruce’s floor. How did you end up here anyway?”

“I asked JARVIS where everyone was,” John replied, “And when he told me Bruce was reading in his room I asked JARVIS to ask Bruce if he would like some company.”

“That is not what I meant and you know it,” the archer commented, “How and when did you two become friends?”

“Over tea,” the blond doctor deadpanned, causing Bruce to huff out a soft laugh.

“I’m being ganged up on,” Clint declared, theatrical, “This is information I would have liked to know. What else are you hiding.”

“Oh come off it,” Trust John not to buy any of his bullshit, “You’re glad I’m making new friends beside you and Nat. Now, did you actually need me for something or can we go back to reading?”

“You are just going to sit here?” Clint asked, “In silence, doing nothing?”

“We will be reading,” the archer really loved Bruce his sarcastic side, it had taken them (mostly Tony) a while to draw it out, but it was awesome when it showed up. “Although, I don’t think we will get much reading done with you moping around.”

“I know how to get rid of him,” Clint looked at his cousin and raised a single eyebrow as a challenge, “If you bugger off now, I won’t tell Nat you spend an hour running around like a headless chicken looking for me.”

That was surprisingly tempting, “You're trying to bribe me,” the spy accused, “But it is not working.”

“I’ll sweeten the deal,” Bruce allowed, “I won’t tell Tony. I won’t even allude to there being a secret for him to dig up.”

Clint’s rebuttal died on his tongue, “Deal,” Then the archer disappeared into the ventilation system.


	6. Cursing from the vents

One of the many virtues of living in the tower was the furniture. Tony had excellent connections and whoever was responsible for furniture knew what they were doing. Natasha hadn’t found a single uncomfortable chair in the entire tower. So, if she had any troubles with concentrating on her book it wasn’t the couch its fault.

The soft ruffling sounds coming from the ventilation system were a more likely culprit. Sharing a floor with Clint meant that she heard him come and go a lot. He didn’t really bother with being silent when he was on friendly terrain unless he was sneaking up on someone.

And precisely because she was quite used to the archer being a bit more careless in the tower, especially on their floor, she didn’t think anything special about the first _clank_ she heard. The second, however, had her looking up at the roster and when she heard a third shortly after she became mildly concerned.

Her concern swiftly turned to mild confusion when a fourth _clang_ was accompanied by some interesting swear words. Clint could be quite, let’s say colourful when cursing, but she had never heard him use the word “bloody” before. She did know someone else, however, who was more likely to use that particular word.

“John!” She called out, “Why are you currently in the ventilation system.”

It stayed quiet for a moment, then the doctor called back, “Clint is trying to learn me how to navigate them. But I don’t think it’s working.”

Someone else, presumably Clint (who was she kidding, it was definitely Clint) said something in return.

Natasha couldn’t quite make out what it was, but she did hear John’s reply. “I still can’t quite believe I fit in here. Let alone move.”

“… there is plenty of room,” Natasha missed the beginning of the archer his sentence but could hear the rest clearly. Which indicated the blond had gotten closer, “The vents in the tower are a lot roomier than some others I have been in. Hell, I probably could fit Thor up here.”

“Please tell me you aren’t seriously considering luring the god of _thunder_ in a closely confined _metal_ space,” John pleaded, “That is would be such a monumentally _bad_ idea. It would probably get a place on the worst-ideas-I-ever-heard list.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Natasha yelled.

“I could get it to work,” Clint argued, “I even think no one would get hurt.”

“Clint,” the doctor sounded very _done_ with his cousin, “Do I really need to remind you that said list mostly consists of seeking out dangerous serial killers and/or psychopaths, all while being unarmed and without backup?”

“ _AND,”_ John forcefully continued before the archer could bring up a counter-argument, “That the idea miraculously actually working is _not_ a mitigating factor?”

“Listen to your cousin, Clint,” the red-head spoke up, “He has more common sense than you do.”

“Is this a good moment to mention that I’m _not_ the confirmed adrenaline junky out of the two of us,” the archer argued.

“I like that you used the word ‘confirmed’” Natasha shot back, “Since it won’t surprise anybody if it ran in the family, so to speak.”

Clint grumbled something back, but the redhead didn’t bother trying to figure out what.

“Now, you two boys have fun,” Natasha called, before she went back to her book, “Don’t get stuck anywhere.”

“Is that a real possibility?” John asked while Clint loudly started to protest.

“That was _one freaking time_! And it would never have happened if it wasn’t for Tony!” the archer complained, “ _Why_ does everybody keep bringing it up? Why!?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it Saturday already?  
> Yes, yes it is!  
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter!  
> Any mistakes? Please let me know!


	7. Visiting Bruce

Bruce checked the temperature of his reaction one more time to make sure everything was going how it should. When he was sure it would be fine for the duration of the reaction he returned to his desk.

While he ordered his notes, that had been spread out over his workplace, his thought wandered to the most recent addition to the tower.

John, on paper, shouldn’t fit so well into this group of misfits as he did. Granted, the other doctor only really interacted with a little less than half of the occupants of the tower. But he did fit surprisingly well.

What also had come as a mild surprise to the scientist was that Clint’s method of cheering John up actually seemed to work. The blond doctor had come a long way since their first midnight meeting with tea.

Still, John was sometimes haunted by his late flatmate. Bruce and John had had a talk about it. The scientist had said that he knew that the blonds depression had something to do with the untimely death of his flatmate. John hadn’t really wanted to talk about it. The man, Sherlock, had been extraordinary and now he was dead. Especially how the man had died seemed to bother the former soldier, but Bruce hadn’t wanted to push and stayed away from the topic.

The part-time goliath was suddenly pulled from his thought by a small sound in the ventilation system. Which wasn’t really uncommon with Clint around. Then the scientist heard a _boink_ like someone hit the wall of the shaft, followed by soft cursing.

“Clint?” the brunet called out, “Are you alright up there?”

“Wrong cousin,” John replied from within the vents, “And I’m doing just peachy.”

“What are you doing up there,” Bruce asked, mildly amused.

“Clint thought it would be a good idea to teach me how to navigate the ventilation system,” the other doctor replied, as he reached the raster, “And then told me to practice some.”

Bruce smiled at the other man, “And how is practice going?”

“Let just say that I’m very glad that JARVIS also has knowledge of and access to the ventilation system,” John replied, while he removed the raster, “Otherwise I would have gotten extremely lost.”

“I’m just doing my job, Doctor Watson,” JARVIS commented from above.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate it,” the former soldier replied, while he let himself down and into the room.

“Well,” Bruce asked interested, “How is travel by air vent?”

“Cramped,” the blond replied, “And it sometimes reminds me of basic training. But I can now travel without hitting my elbows every two minutes, so that is something.”

The scientist smiled, “Clint never gives realistic ideas of the vents,” the brunet then started to move towards his kitchen, “If you listen to him it sounds like you could hold a tea party up there without any problem. Speaking of tea, do you want a cup?”

“Don’t give my cousin any ideas,” John replied with a smile, “And I’m not declining a well-brewed cup of tea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, I hope you enjoyed the chapter.  
> If there are any mistakes, please let me know so I can improve.
> 
> On an unrelated note, I suddenly realised that this chapter should be impossible in real life.  
> Ventilation systems for laboratories, especially chemical laboratories as where Bruce is working, should not be connected to the main ventilation of the rest of the building. This has to do with safety and toxic fumes. And now I'm thinking about the logistics, I wonder how they solve it at my university...


	8. How to care for a genius.

Tony had lost track of time, this wasn’t unusual by any stretch of the imagination, especially when working. He and Bruce had fallen in a confrontable rhythm a couple of hours ago. That was one of the great things about working with Bruce, they found that rhythm almost immediately. The only reason Tony knew it was only a couple of hours because he was not craving coffee yet. Therefore, it was a couple of hours and not the better part of a day (or days).

Anyway, they had their rhythm for working together. Music loud, but not on the levels the engineer had them when he was working alone. He wanted to be able to hear Bruce when he had something to say because it was always worthwhile to listen to Bruce, even if the man was lecturing him on personal health. Because Bruce had more issues with medical then all of them combined, so I the doctor told you that you needed SHIELD medical, you really needed SHIELD medical.

So, Tony had his work, a good friend to talk science with and music. Everything he needed for a science bender and more. This might have been one of the reasons he was so surprised when one of them suddenly disappeared. Missing music generally could only mean a couple of things. And since a second assessment told the engineer that the music wasn’t really gone, but was just dimmed, meant that they had a visitor.

Tony uncurled from where he had been involved with his work to see who the intruder was, meanwhile making his opinion on the intrusion known, loudly, “What is it? No way we have been working for so long that you’re kicking us out! We’ve only just started.”

“Oh, sorry Tony,” his science buddy said, “John called and I think I might have left my mobile on my floor but I should have asked before taking the call on speaker.”

“Is that always the first thing his mind goes to,” Clint’s cousin inquired from the speakers, “That someone is going to drag him away from his work? Don’t worry I just have something to ask Bruce.”

“No,” the engineer protested, “You can’t have Brucie-kins. We’ve only just started.”

“Do you always sound like a child whose favourite toy is about to be taken away?” the blond asked, “ I just need Bruce to tell me which kind of tea I should bring. The store changed their assortment.”

“Tea?” Tony asked scandalised while turning to his fellow scientist, “You're interrupting our awesome science to talk about _tea?_ ”

“Oh hush,” Bruce replied, “You’re the one blowing it out of proportions. We haven’t even hit the ten-hour mark yet, so of course, no one is going to bother us yet.”

Tony turned back to his work with some grumbling and let Bruce finish his call. By the time the music came back, the engineer had been fully absorbed in work once again.

* * *

Tony was looking at some of the designs for his Iron man suit, to be precise, a piece regarding the repulsors, which was one of the more volatile pieces of his suit.

“He Bruce,” the engineer called out, “a mere nineteen point seven change of explosion is still acceptable right?”

There was a slight delay and Tony already started to grin like a mad scientist.

“Since I know you’re talking about the Iron Man suit,” Bruce began, “The answer is no, Tony. That is a terrible idea.”

“But you hesitated!” Tony said triumphantly while turning to look at the other man, “That means you considered it.”

Bruce shot him an utterly unimpressed look, “No Tony, I didn’t consider it. I just needed to swallow my bite of fruit,” the doctor explained as he held up his plate with pieces of apple to demonstrate.

“Why do you have fruit?” the engineer asked, complexly confused, “And where did it come from?”

“John brought it,” Bruce replied with a faint smile on his lips, “And before you ask, yes he brought you some to. You even found it. You do know that you have been waving a piece of apple around while talking, right?”

Tony looked at his hand and blinked twice in surprise. Because he _was_ holding a piece of apple, more accurately, he was holding a piece of apple he clearly had taken a bite out.

When he looked back at his friend, Bruce was trying to hide a smile behind his hand.

“Good to see _one_ of us is having fun,” the engineer commented, “But seriously, how did I not notice?”

“Well..” the other man began, “You do get in a zone when you’re working. When John came by you were busy with something detailed that required all your attention. We didn’t want to distract you so John just put the plate next to you.”

“Oh,” Tony replied, then he tossed the piece of apple he still had in his mouth, “Why was he here anyway?”

Bruce shrugged, “He and I get along pretty well and apparently he thought a snack would do us good.”

“Did he want us to stop?” the engineer asked, very used to how other people seemed to think that more than a couple of hours in the lab was ‘unhealthy’.

“No Tony,” the other scientist assured him, “Bringing us a snack is not the same as wanting us to stop. You managed to eat most of yours without noticing, should I be worried about that by the way?”

“Nah,” Tony replied dismissible, “That probably happened because the bots sometimes do the same with something to drink.”

“If you say so,” Bruce replied, before returning to his work.

* * *

Tony was vaguely aware that someone had entered the room, but this specific calculation wasn’t working and finding the mistake was more pressing now.

“Aha!” He roared in triumph when he spotted the fault. It was then swiftly corrected so that the computer could start crunching numbers.

“Is it working now?” He heard his fellow scientist ask from somewhere behind him.

“Yup, all fine now.” The engineer replied while he spun on his chair. To his surprise, Bruce wasn’t alone. John had apparently joined them and brought tea.

Tony wandered closer to the duo, mostly because the blond had also brought cookies.

John, who had noticed him eying the cookies spoke up, “You can have a biscuit if you drink some water,” he also produced a bottle of the mentioned clear liquid.

“Do you have something against coffee?” Tony asked, although it probably wasn’t the case. Clint also drank the stuff like it was going out of style.

“Not necessary,” the blond commented, “And I’m not planning on interfering whit your caffeine addiction. But caffeine is also a diuretic, so if you don’t want to dehydrate you should drink some water.”

The guy even had the audacity to wiggle the bottle a bit.

Tony huffed out a semi-offended breath, “That where some big words Watson. You almost sound like a medical professional.”

In reaction to his words, Bruce chocked on his tea while John lifted an unbelieving eyebrow and was visibly fighting a smile.

Tony looked at his friend, who clearly fighting not to laugh and failing.

“What?!” the engineer demanded, “I feel laughed at and it isn’t a nice feeling, especially because I don’t know _why_!”

“I know Clint glossed over some detailed of my life,” John began, “But this is kind of ridiculous.”

“Tony,” Bruce had finally refound his voice, “John is a doctor.”

“What?” the engineer asked confused, “In which field?”

“Medicine,” John deadpanned, “So if I sound like a medical professional it is because I _am_ a medical professional and you should probably listen to me. On that note, drink your water and take a biscuit.”

“We are going to have words about this,” Tony muttered while accepting the water bottle, “Why didn’t I know this?”

“You never asked,” John replied.

“You are not going to nag us because we spent so long in the lab are you?” Tony asked with narrowed eyes.

“God no!” John laughed, “You are not even on the second day yet. I’ll just bring some more fruit and drinks and wait for you to crash by yourself. But ask me again in a day or two, I might change my mind if it gets too extreme.”

Reassured for the moment the engineer went back to his water making a mental note to needle the blond for more information later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Saturday, another chapter.  
> As always, I hope you enjoyed it.


	9. Clint's and Nat's mission to *REDACTED*

John took a sip of his tea in the hope it might wake him up somewhat. His sleeping schedule was still pretty crappy, although it had improved since his arrival at the tower. That didn’t mean he was now, at the crack of dawn, completely awake.

“You do know that you don’t have to see me off, right?” His cousin asked amused while gathering the scattered bits and pieces of his equipment.

“Just humour me.” The blond doctor replied, “Why are you leaving this early anyway?”

The archer shrugged, “You know SHIELD, all secretive and shit. Something about accounting for flight time, arrival, set up time, the actual moment we can go and do something, etcetera etcetera.”

“How long are you flying,” John asked, interested, “Or can’t you tell me because its classified?”

Clint just gave him a shit-eating grin.

“I honestly don’t know if I should lecture you or laugh about it,” John continued, “But telling Stark something is classified gets a very interesting reaction, although I still think you shouldn’t rile up your teammate.”

Clint waved his concerns away, “I already got the lecture from Steve. Besides, Tony will have found out about the mission details before we get back.”

“Alright then.” John replied, “Be careful.”

“Pfffffffft,” Clint responded, “It’s a boring intel mission. We’ll be fine. I’ll be back in four days, week tops.”

* * *

  _Six days later_

John was in the kitchen contemplating if he had all the ingredients for dinner or not. His cousin had not yet returned and he could show up literally any day now. Luckily there was a relatively easy way to find out if Clint would be back for dinner.

“Jarvis?” John asked the ever helpful AI.

“What can I do for you, Dr Watson?”

“You have access to Clint and Natasha’s current mission file right?”

“Since sir hacked it to find the location, yes.”

“Does it mention when they're expected back?” the blond doctor asked.

“There mission was a success and pickup was supposed to be two days ago. However, Agent Barton and Agent Romanov missed the extraction, but did radio in to say they were fine and would find their own way back.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” John replied, slightly accusing. He preferred to know when his cousin was working himself into trouble.

“It is a quite common occurrence, Doctor Watson,” The AI replied, “They get distracted by ‘something shiny’ as sir calls it. Unfortunately, ‘something shiny’ can contain a range of options between life-threatening situations and interesting tourist shops.”

“If 'something shiny'is a life threating situation, how likely are they to call for backup?”

“Especially Agent Romanov is very consisted about calling in and since their radios still work I would say the change is quite high that they will call for backup when the need arises.”

“Alright then,” John replied while he went back to his grocery list.

* * *

  _Earlier in *REDACTED*_

Natasha was quite pleased about how the mission had gone. There had only been some minor complications and both they were mostly unharmed apart from some superficial scratches.

Natasha idly wondered if she would also have called this mission a success before she had joined the Avengers. Running around with a superhero team had changed her perspective a bit on what Clint and Tony would describe as a clusterfuck.

On the other hand, Clint's the ability to get into the weirdest fights had always been there and the definition of ‘no problems’ was different when she was with her partner or without.

Natasha was just fondly recalling an occasion the archer had ended up in a fight he claimed was because he ‘had been breathing wrong’ (read mouthed off at someone) when said archer pulled away from her side into a sprint.

Immediately on high alert, Nat followed her partner. Just because they were done with the mission didn’t mean that they were out of the woods yet and Clint did have better eyesight than she did.

Natasha rounded the corner of the alley just in time to see her partner slam someone back into the alley wall. The archer's movements and facial expression told her that Clint was furious, although she wasn’t quite sure what the tall man with average or slim built (the local weather required layers) had done to warrant his anger.

Clint’s furious hiss of “How the hell are you not dead?!” Brought back the suspect pool, but not by much.

The archers next sentence was a lot more helpful, as she watched silver eyes go from confused to understanding in a couple of seconds.

“And why the _fuck_ doesn’t John know?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait? What?!  
> Did I just introduce a tiny bit of plot and suspense?  
> Apparently.
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoyed reading!


	10. Delivery from *REDACTED*

John groggily woke from a deep sleep, his room was still completely dark and the doctor vaguely wondered what the hell had woken him up. The blond had just rolled over again with every intention of going back to sleep when he heard knocking on his door.

“JARVIS?” he asked, “What is going on?”

It was probably not something extremely urgent, otherwise, the AI would have warned him or whoever was knocking would have opened the door by now.

“Agent Barton and Agent Romanov have returned from their mission and Agent Barton is currently knocking on your door, presumably to get your attention.”

John frowned, confused, “Why hasn’t he asked you to wake me, or just entered to do it himself?” he asked while getting up from his bed.

“Based on Agent Barton’s ‘jittery’ state I would assume he recently consumed a large quantity of caffeine. My assessment is that Agent Barton has merely forgotten that I could assist in this matter, while apparently remembering your request that no one entered your sleeping quarters whiteout invitation.” JARVIS replied.

The blond thanked the AI and opened his door. Because he was prepared for his hyper cousin, John was in time to catch the archers hand before it made contact with his nose.

Clint’s entire face lit up, like a kid in a candy store, “John! You’re up.”

“Yes, I’m awake,” the blond doctor replied, “What did you need me for? And what time is it?”

“I have no clue what time it is,” Clint replied while he grabbed his cousins by the shoulders and started to move the ex-Captain to the sitting room. “But this really shouldn’t wait and Nat made tea.”

“Nat made tea? She hardly ever makes tea,” John responded, then he remembered the rest of his cousin's sentence, “And what can’t wait? You’re not injured are you?”

“No, no. We are perfectly fine. Not a scratch,” Clint replied while he motioned for John to take place on the couch, “And Nat really made tea, look,”

Clint pointed at the coffee table, which indeed held two steaming cups. John took a moment to look at Natasha, who had taken a comfortable position in one of the chairs and was holding a third cup.

“We’re really fine.” The redhead answered the doctor's unasked question.

John nodded and turned his attention back to his cousin while picking up his tea.

“Alright,” Clint started, “I brought you something and after you read it I will try and answer all your questions.”

Then Clint stole his cup of tea and replaced it with a piece of paper.

“If it makes you feel better,” the archer continued, “I punched him the face for you.”

John gave his cousin a confused look but didn’t comment before starting to read the letter the archer had given him. Then the blond doctor froze while still reading the letter.

And then he read it again.

And again.

After the fourth time, he bent over forward and pushed his hands against his eyes.

“ _That bloody impossible git._ ”

No one said anything for a while but Clint did move closer to his cousin. Not to give him a hug or anything, just to show some silent support.

After a little while longer, John sat back up, “That bloody idiot.”

“Like I said,” the blond assassin started, “I punched him for you. But I will absolutely support you if you also want to do it yourself when you see him again.”

“Yeah,” John replied, before looking back at the letter, “Goddammit, Sherlock.”

“I completely agree,” Clint added while handing his cousin his tea, “If it makes you feel better, writing that letter took him almost three hours.”

“Really?” the doctor asked surprised, before taking a sip of his tea.

“Yup,” his cousin replied, “He also had a small mountain of discarded paper at the end.”

John made a noncommittal noise sitting back for a moment. Then his eyes landed on Natasha. She hadn’t really moved at all since the start of the conversation. But she did have a small secretive smile.

“Why do you look like the cat that got the canary?” John asked the redhead.

Natasha’s smile grew at the question and in one fluid movement she sat up straight and produced a big bulky plastic bag.

“I stole the content of his trash can.” She commented while presenting the bag.

Then, without further ado, she turned the bag upside down and emptied it all over John’s lap. Both cousins looked somewhat surprised at the small mountain of crumpled papers that had suddenly joined them on the couch.

Then John picked up one of the pieces. It was the same letter he just read or almost the same letter, but it had words crossed out and all kind of additions. Another piece only contained the words _Dear John_ that someone had angrily crossed out again.

“Well,” Clint started, “Sleep is for the weak anyway. Let’s see if we can find some sort of order in this mayhem.”

The blond doctor laughed, “Ah, why not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my, we're getting closer and closer to the third instalment of the series...  
> Well, I hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	11. Sherlock's letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a really difficult chapter to write and I really hope I got Sherlock right.  
> Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it.

_John,_

_It appears that I owe you an apology._

_When I devised the plan that that concluded in my ‘death’ I was aware that my death would hurt you, but I apparently severely underestimated just how much. Sentiment has never been my strong suit._

_When I went up that roof to confrontation Moriarty I knew that one of the things he likely wanted from me was to kill myself, so I set up multiple failsafe’s. Still, I was not completely prepared for the plan Moriarty had prepared._

_Three ‘I O U’s, three snipers, three victims. Mrs Hudson, Lestrade and you. So, suddenly I needed the three snipers to believe I was dead and therefore I needed you to believe I had died._

_Having died then put me in a very interesting position because the world believed I was dead and more importantly, Moriarty’s network believed I was dead. This put me in the prime position to dismantle his network for once and all. His network was vast and there is still a lot remaining._

_However, it was never my intention that the destruction of Moriarty’s network would be at the expense of your health. Since my ‘fall’ I haven’t been back to London, instead relying on Mycroft for information about home. This was clearly another mistake, I should have remembered that Mycroft is actually worse at this sentiment thing than I am._

_Your cousin informed me of the current state of affairs and while it troubles me to hear that your limp has returned I’m glad that you have someone looking out for you. When I’m finished with destroying the last parts of Moriarty’s network I fully intend on returning home. I do hope that I will then find you in good health._

_SH_

 

_P.s. Because I know you’ll otherwise worry. Yes, I’m eating regularly and at least twice a day. Although the nutrients are normally the only positive thing about the meals, they taste awful._

_P.p.s. I remember you said you and your cousin were ‘a lot of times’ removed. How many exactly? Because I can’t see any family characteristics you have in common._

_P.p.p.s. Are you aware of what your cousin does for a living? And if so, why did you never tell me? This would have been interesting to know._


End file.
